Sam's Love
by PippinBoyd
Summary: Sam and Frodo discover their love for one another, and have it thoroughly tested during a visit from Merry and Pippin.
1. An Unexpected Visit

I published this a while ago, and just sort of "rediscovered" it. Kind of forgot I had it. I fixed some mistakes, and added quite a bit.

"Sam sat silent and said no more. He had a good deal to think about. For one thing, there was a lot to do up in the Bag End garden, and he would have a busy day tomorrow, if the weather cleared. The grass was growing fast. But Sam had more on his mind then gardening. After a while he sighed, and got up and went out." -The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring: The Shadow of the Past (44)

Sam walked slowly to Bag End, nervously swinging the shovel he was carrying. He inadvertently beheaded a dandelion, but didn't even take notice. As he reached the beautiful garden, he threw the shovel to the side, uprooting a clump of grass. He knelt down heavily and began pulling out weeds, but taking along a few flowers with him. Frodo came out to see how he was fairing, and noticed the amount of uprooted tulips.  
"Sam, what are you doing?" he asked, kneeling beside him.  
"Mr. Frodo! I was just weeding the-" but as he looked over to the pile of 'weeds' he groaned. "Oh I'm sorry! I didn't realize...I'll plant more, straight away. I'll take 'em out of my own garden, I will!" Sam said, standing up and beginning to run back to 6 Bagshot Row.  
"Sam, don't worry about it. There are still plenty left. Just try and be a little more careful, please," Frodo said, standing up and putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam looked at the hand, and Frodo could have sworn he saw tears welling up in the gardener's eyes. "Sam it's only a few flowers!"  
"No Mr. Frodo, it's not that," Sam muttered.  
"What is it then, is something troubling you at home?"  
"No, nothing at home sir."  
"Well Sam, stop being an ass and tell me!" And with that Sam shrugged, leaned forward, and kissed Frodo. When he was finished, his cheeks were bright red, and he instantly knelt down and began weeding the garden again. Frodo stood stone still, staring at the spot where Sam had been.  
"Sam..." Frodo murmured.  
"Yes Mr. Frodo?" he asked, not looking at him. Frodo grabbed Sam by the elbow and pulled him up. He whirled him around, and planted a very firm kiss on his lips. After this was over, the two hobbits stared at each other for a while, both not quite believing what had just happened.  
"Well I suppose my old gaffer will be coming to wake me up soon," Sam said, sitting down.  
"What are you talking about?" Frodo asked, cocking his head.  
"Oh, no, don't even try this time. I have had this dream a good many times, and you always try and tell me it's real. Well not this time, Dream Frodo," Sam said, hands on hips. Frodo laughed.  
"Sam, this is no dream."  
"Nice try. But I know this couldn't never happen in real life."  
"Is that so? If you were dreaming, then would this hurt?" Frodo asked, smacking Sam very hard on the bottom. Sam opened his mouth wide.  
"You mean to tell me that...that really just happened?!" Sam shouted, looking around.  
"Yes, my dear Sam. It did." Sam did not seem to know what to do. He looked at Frodo, and smiled.  
"Frodo! I mean, eh, Mr. Frodo! This is amazing! But you really...I thought you'd never..."  
"Sam, I really do insist that you call me Frodo. No offense, but calling me mister makes it rather...well creepy really. And Sam, for longer than you could ever imagine I have watched you in this garden, waiting for the day when I could finally get up the nerve. But it was you who finally did it!" Sam shook his head and began examining his toes.  
"I only did it cause I thought I was dreamin', if you follow me. No way I'd find it in me to do that, unless I figured twasn't really happenin'."  
"Well I'm glad it was," Frodo said, smiling. Sam looked up at him, and stared straight into his eyes, as if looking for some sign of deceit. It did not seem like this could be happening. But to his relief, he found only sincere longing. Frodo took a step forward and placed his hands on Sam's shoulders. Both hobbits quickly leaned in, becoming lost in a very long, intimate kiss. They would have continued like this, had it not been for the shrill laughter heard coming over the hill, accompanied by...  
"I never would have guessed it! And all this time I thought you were gardening, but apparently you're digging elsewhere, Sam!" Pippin jeered, struggling to stay on his feet.  
"What is it Pippin, what are they doing?" Merry called, too far down the hill to see. But a pleading look from Frodo caused Pippin to hold his tongue.  
"Nothing, I was only joking, Merry." Merry came walking up, looking around at the three hobbits. Sam muttered a quick 'afternoon' and began weeding the garden again.  
"Hello Frodo! We haven't seen you in such a long while! Sorry we didn't give any notice, but can you say no to this face?" Merry asked, looking over to Pippin, who was very poorly attempting to look cherubic and innocent.  
"Why, yes I believe I could. No," and with that, Frodo walked into Bag End and slammed the door.  
"Oh Frodo, I really think you ought to let us in!" Pippin said, smiling devilishly.  
"And why is that, young Took?" Frodo asked, clearly not to concerned with the wrath of his childish cousin.  
"I don't suppose it would bother you if I told Merry about your work in the garden then?" Pippin chided, looking down at Sam to see his face go red right to the base of his sandy curls. Instantly the door was open, but Frodo had run back down the hall so quickly neither Merry nor Pippin could see him when they entered.  
"Cousin?" Merry called, walking down the hall. "Cousin!"  
"In here," Frodo muttered. Merry and Pippin walked into the kitchen, and found Frodo sitting at the table, drinking tea.  
"Merry, do you think maybe you could go and get some tomatoes out of the garden?" Frodo asked.  
"Can't I just ask Sam to-"  
"Now, Merry. Thank you." As soon as Merry walked out the kitchen, Frodo rounded on Pippin.  
"Think you're mighty funny, do you?" Frodo demanded, grabbing the seedcake that Pippin had just picked up out of his hand.  
"What?" Pippin asked, grabbing the cake back and taking a bite.  
"How could you do that? Threatening to tell Merry!"  
"Oh come on. He wouldn't care. Besides, since when do you care what people think, Frodo?"  
"I don't care, but what about Sam? He has a family who might toss him out for all we know! And how could you embarrass him like that! Not ten minutes ago was the first time we had ever..." Frodo stopped, and looked to Pippin, assuming he would know what he meant.  
"I'm sorry, cousin. I didn't think about that," Pippin said, head falling. Frodo smiled.  
"Oh, don't worry about it. No harm done. But just...try not to say anything, will you?" Pippin smiled and made as if he was buttoning his lips.  
"Frodo, Sam says that the tomatoes won't be ready for another couple of weeks," Merry said, walking into the kitchen and rolling his eyes.  
"Forgive me Merry. I had forgotten," Frodo said, smiling.  
"Yes, I'll bet," Merry said, sitting down and eating a seedcake. Not to long after, Sam came into Bag End, and stood in the door way of the kitchen.  
"Mr. Frodo, I've finished for the day," he said, turning to go back out.  
"Sam, wait! Please, sit down," Frodo said, pulling out a chair. Sam looked to the chair, than to Pippin who was smiling apologetically. He warily walked across the kitchen and sat down. Now Frodo and Sam were on one side of the table, Merry and Pippin on the other.  
"Would you like some tea, Sam?" Frodo asked. Sam shook his head, but a look from Frodo to Pippin caused Pippin to jump up and begin making the tea.  
"I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it," Merry said, leaning back in his chair.  
"Saw what?!" Sam and Frodo shouted at the same time.  
"The...garden," Merry said, looking shrewdly at the two.  
"Oh, yes! Sam's been doing a wonderful job, truly wonderful," Frodo said, daring to breath again. Frodo put his hand on Sam's shoulder and Sam jumped. Frodo looked at his hand and drew it back as if a snake were lying on Sam's head. Frodo folded his hands and put them on his lap. Sam saw this, and carefully, under the table, reached over and took one of them in his own. He squeezed gently, and Frodo looked to him and smiled. Merry shrugged and took another seedcake. When Pippin offered Sam his tea, Sam had to release Frodo's hand for a moment. Frodo put his hand on Sam's knee, and began drawing little circles with his pointer. Sam began drinking his tea, while Pippin knocked a napkin off the table.  
"Oh dear. Look what I've done!" Pippin said, very melodramatically, and bent down under the table, looking over to Sam and Frodo. He giggled, and as he drew his head back up, slammed it on the underside of the table.  
"You imp of a Took!" Merry cried, rushing over and taking Pippin in his arms. Tears were welling up in Pippin's eyes. Merry sighed.  
"A tweenager and still he needs a nap when he gets cranky," Merry muttered, leading Pippin off into one of the bedrooms of Bag End. Frodo immediately wrapped his arms around Sam and kissed him. When Frodo finally came up for air, Sam seized the opportunity to ask him a question.  
"What did you and Mr. Pippin talk about?" Sam wondered.  
"How he needs to learn to keep his mouth shut," Frodo smiled, leaning in and kissing Sam again. Sam drew back after a bit.  
"What's gotten into you?" he asked.  
"For years I've been wanting to do this, and now I finally can. I have a lot of time to make up for!" Frodo laughed, pulling Sam towards him once again. But soon the sound of Merry returning could be heard.  
"Sometimes I wonder if he's ever going to grow up," Merry said, sitting back down.  
"Give him time, Merry. He's the son of the Thain, he's used to being spoiled," Frodo said, putting his hand on Sam's thigh under the table.  
"Yes, but as soon as we got out of the room he told me I should go do something else, too. Let you and Sam have some time alone. I don't know what's gotten into that hobbit, but..." Merry stopped when he saw the looks on Sam and Frodo's faces.  
"Oh...oh...ohhhhhh. Well I'm going to go take a nap as well, then," Merry said, quickly walking out of the room.  
"Merry, you don't have to..." Frodo began, but he was gone. Frodo turned to Sam, but Sam was looking away, red faced.  
"What is it?" Frodo asked, but as he looked down he saw that his hand was rather close to certain unmentionable regions. "Oh, Sam, I'm sorry!"  
"Don't be!" Sam nearly shouted, grabbing Frodo's hand when he tried to take it away. "I mean...it's alright." Frodo smiled.  
"Sam, you dirty, dirty hobbit!" Sam blushed furiously, then smiled. He now put his hand exactly where Frodo's was, but on Frodo's thigh instead of his own. Now Frodo's breathing became baited.  
"I think maybe I'm going to take a nap too," Frodo said, jumping up and running to his bedroom.  
"And me!" shouted Sam, following Frodo.  
Later that night...

"That was a lovely dinner! Well done, Frodo!" Merry said, pushing back his empty plate.  
"Yes, very nice," Pippin agreed, piling still more food onto his own plate.  
"Don't thank me. It was mostly Sam," Frodo said, putting his hand on Sam's knee.  
"Don't you start that again..." Sam muttered.  
"What?" Merry asked, looking from Sam to Frodo.  
"Nothing! Nothing," Sam said, blushing. Frodo quickly took a sip of his tea to hide his smile. Pippin, completely oblivious, yawned loudly.  
"Well I'm going to hit the sack," he said, standing up and leaving his plate at the table. A look from Frodo caused him to roll his eyes and walk back, cleaning up his plate. Merry stood up and took care of his plate.  
"I'm going to go to bed, too, I think," Merry said, following Pippin. Sam and Frodo watched the two walk out of the room. As soon as they were gone, Frodo, of course, leaned in. Sam quickly stood up.  
"Now Mr. ...er...Frodo. Frodo, we must clean up first. Come now, these dishes won't wash themselves." And with that, Sam stood up and picked up his and Frodo's plate, and brought them to the sink. He began wiping the dishes with a sponge, when Frodo came up behind him, and rested his head on Sam's shoulder.  
"You don't have to do that you know."  
"I know. But I don't mind," Sam said, handing a dish to Frodo for him to dry. As Sam reached into the sink for another dish, a little bit of water splashed onto Frodo's arm.  
"Hey!" Frodo cried, reaching into the sink and splashing Sam back. Sam smiled and splashed Frodo again. Frodo filled a mug up with water, and dumped it over Sam's head. Sam laughed, and put his arms around Frodo. Frodo smiled, and put his hands up on Sam's shoulders, clasping them behind his neck. The two stood like this for a long time, until they heard footsteps coming down the hall. Soon a half dressed Merry walked into the kitchen.  
"Have you got any of that pudding left?" he asked, not noticing as Sam and Frodo quickly let go of each other.  
"Yes, right here," Frodo said, handing Merry a small bowl.  
"Thanks," Merry said, putting a spoon into the bowl, taking a small amount, and toasting the air in front of Sam and Frodo. He quickly turned around and walked back to the room he and Pippin were sharing.  
"Have you got it?" they heard Pippin gleefully ask.  
"Yes, yes," Merry said, closing the door behind him.  
"Frodo, you don't think..." Sam said, looking at the closed door down the hall. Frodo cocked his head.  
"Merry and Pippin? No...no. But, now that you mention it..." Frodo said thoughtfully.  
"They do mean a lot to each other. And spend enough time together. And they always seem to share a room when they visit, that's all I'm saying," Sam said, sitting down at the table. Frodo joined him.  
"Hmm. I think maybe they are," Frodo said, putting his head on Sam's shoulder. "Do you think you could spend the night?" he asked.  
"I don't know. My gaffer said to take care of anything you wanted, he figured Merry and Pippin would be coming. Heard 'em talking at The Green Dragon."  
"Anything?" Frodo asked, smiling devilishly. Sam smiled back.  
"Bed time?" he asked. Frodo nodded, and quickly ran to his bedroom. But Sam grabbed his arm, whirled him around, and kissed him. The two became so intent on the kisses, that they ended up falling onto the couch in each others arms.

"Morning, Frodo. Morning Sam," Pippin said, half awake, walking past the couch to the kitchen for breakfast.  
"Morning, Pip," Frodo muttered from underneath Sam.  
"Mornin', Mr. Pippin," Sam said, not opening his eyes. Pippin walked into the kitchen, and picked up an apple. He opened his mouth wide to take a bite, then, eyes opening wide, he dropped the apple onto the floor.  
"Frodo! Sam!" Pippin cried, running back to the couch and shielding his eyes.  
"Ahh!" Sam shouted, picking up a blanket and wrapping it around himself.  
"Oh!" Frodo yelled, taking a bit of blanket from Sam and wrapping it around his own waist. The two hobbits began ambling towards Frodo's bedroom, Sam tripping as he went, and in doing so showing Pippin some things he did not want to see. It was just as Sam and Frodo closed the door to Frodo's bedroom that Merry came out of the room he and Pippin had shared.  
"S' going on?" he asked, looking at the door which had just been loudly slammed.  
"Nothing. Apple?" Pippin asked, handing Merry the felled apple. Merry took the apple, (luckily the floor had recently been cleaned), and took a bite. Pippin took a new, clean apple, and began nibbling on it. Ten minutes later, Frodo and Sam returned to the kitchen, both very red in the face.  
"Morning Frodo, Sam," Merry said, nodding to them as they came in.  
"Morning Merry," Frodo muttered. Sam could only meekly return the nod.  
"What's wrong? Didn't you sleep well?" Merry asked. Pippin took a rather large bite of his apple to prevent himself from laughing. Sam and Frodo both grunted into their mugs of tea which Sam had just prepared.  
"Don't know why, but I'm really in the mood for squash," Merry muttered, rubbing his stomach.  
"We've some in the garden," Frodo said, glad to give Sam a chance to get out into the fresh air. "Sam, would you show him?" Sam nodded and led Merry out. Pippin took the seat next to Frodo where Sam had been sitting.  
"Please cousin, for your and my sake, don't do that again," Pippin said, smiling. Frodo's cheeks became very flushed.  
"I'm...sorry. We just...didn't have time to..." Frodo stuttered.  
"Don't worry about it," Pippin smiled, putting a comforting hand on Frodo's shoulder. Frodo smiled back.  
"How do you and Merry..." Frodo began.  
"How do me and Merry what?" Pippin asked.  
"You know, keep it quiet?" Frodo continued.  
"Keep...keep what quiet?" Pippin probed, not sure where this was going.

"Pippin, how do you keep people from finding out that you two are...together?"  
"What? Frodo, you don't think that me and Merry are..."  
"But, you are...aren't you?"  
"Frodo, me and Merry are together... but not like that!...but we are together..."  
"Oh! I thought you two were..."  
"No," Pippin shuddered. "We're...we're cousins, Frodo! First cousins! And he's my best friend."  
"Sorry," Frodo said, "I just thought with all the sharing beds, and how close you two are..."  
"Frodo, we share a bed so we get a chance to talk. Merry's going to be Master of Brandyhall, and I the Thain. We hardly have any time for each other anymore. Anytime we have together must be well spent." Pippin said, looking deeply saddened.  
"Aw Pip, don't worry. I know you two are always going to be together. But not like that," Frodo added as Pippin opened his mouth to speak. Pippin smiled and walked outside to join Sam and Merry in the garden. Frodo walked to the window and watched the three things that meant the most to him plodding around in the garden, Merry and Pippin licking their lips hungrily as Sam explained just what everything was and when it would be ready for picking. Sam looked up and saw Frodo staring at him through the window. He smiled and moved his pointer and middle finger into the tiniest wave, then turned and began explaining to Pippin why he can't eat the small crunchy things crawling around on the tomatoes. Frodo smiled, and with one last look at Sam, who's hair was catching the sun just right to make him look as though he was glowing, Frodo walked into his Uncle Bilbo's old study.


	2. We Haven't Seen It All

Frodo missed Bilbo very much, not having much of a chance to say good-bye during or after the chaos of the eleventy-first birthday. But having Sam around for company certainly helped. Frodo privately held onto the hope, though, that he'd see his dear cousin again some day. He began rummaging through the old desk, looking over the translations of Elvish poetry Bilbo had been working on. He remembered the difficulty, trying to find words in their native tongue to match those of the elves, and still having it flow as beautifully as the original.

'Fairer and fairer, as one grows,

Beauty wrought by the trials and throws;

Age bringing grace steady as the Anduin flows,

Intellect and tact brought as this Age slowly goes,

But the child's innocence the wise one still tows;

Enjoying more the company of friends than the rivalry of foes,

Words spoken eloquently as the easterly wind blows,

Until finally into the West, the last one rows.'

Frodo smiled, moving onto the next drawer. He found one of Bilbo's old pipes, rather small, and intricately carved with beautiful leaves and flowers, tiny imps seeming to flutter around among them. Its size was most likely the reason this one had been banished to the drawer; most of Bilbo's pipes were larger. Placing the pipe on the desk, Frodo carried on with his rummaging. He moved now to an old bookshelf. Here he found one of Bilbo's old sketchbooks, full of drawings of the Shire, and even some doodles of Smaug, some of his dwarf fellows, and Gandalf the Grey. Frodo was never allowed to look at these drawings when Bilbo was around.

"The musings of an old mind, realized on paper, are no matter to a tween such as yourself," Bilbo would say, closing the book whenever Frodo leaned over to catch a glimpse. But now, Frodo was of age, fully grown as a hobbit. He didn't think his dear Uncle Bilbo would mind if he looked now. As he came to the last page, he felt warm tears pricking the corners of his eyes. It was a doodle of Frodo himself, sitting in an enormous chair in Bag End, cross-legged, staring intently at a book. Frodo remembered what he was reading then; Bilbo's love for detail allowed Frodo to know the exact book. It was a compilation of stories about Utumno. Utumno was the place where many of Melkor's creations resided, things like Balrogs. Melkor was the member of the Valar who had gone towards evil. Frodo had a hard time getting through this book, as he would look away from the pages every time he became frightened. Which happened a lot. He hadn't realized that Bilbo was looking at him at the time, much less drawing him. A tear fell, and smudged the corner of the page. Frodo quickly closed the book, and put it away. As he turned to move onto something new, he felt another presence in the room.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam said cautiously, momentarily forgetting his promise to drop such formalities.

"Yes, Sam?" Frodo asked, trying to wipe the tears from his big blue eyes. Sam looked to the sketchbook, and instantly understood. Bilbo had shown him its contents many times, as Bilbo considered Sam much more mature than most other young hobbits. He used it as a story telling device, for when he would spend hours telling young Samwise the stories of his endeavors outside the secure boundaries of the Shire.

Sam silently went to Frodo, taking him in his arms. Frodo leaned back against the wall, and slowly slunk to the floor, Sam carefully helping him as to prevent any injuries. Sam continued to cradle Frodo, kissing the tears on his cheeks, and gently rocking him.

"He shouldn't have left me, Sam!" Frodo cried, ears turning red.

"I know, Frodo, I know," Sam said, trying to comfort his love rather than reason with him. That's not what he needed he right now.

"I just turned of age, he should have stayed! Right when I needed him most!" Frodo continued to bawl, grasping Sam's sleeves with both hands, and burying his face in the front of Sam's shirt.

"It'll be all right, Frodo," Sam said, delicately fingering Frodo's curls.

"I miss him so, Sam. I miss him." The anger had passed, and turned to an even deeper sorrow. It pained Sam down to the very bottom of his soul.

"You may see him yet, Frodo. Never give up hope," Sam whispered, silently begging the Valar that he wasn't telling a lie.

"Yes, yes. I know. But, Sam…Sam I'll never see them again," Frodo said, looking up from Sam's shirt directly into his eyes. Sam didn't know what to say. Frodo hardly ever spoke of his parents. He had only been twelve when they passed, hardly enough time for a son to get truly acquainted with his parents.

"I'm sorry Frodo. But…I'm here." This was the only comfort Sam could hope to offer. Frodo's eyes were red and puffy, his cheeks covered with trails from tears. Tears no hobbit should ever have to cry.

"Thank you Sam," Frodo said. He seemed to be calming down. He leaned back into Sam's lap.

"I wouldn't leave you, Frodo. You know that, right?" Sam asked, gently cleaning Frodo's cheeks with his shirtsleeve.

"I know Sam. And I intend to hold you to that." Sam smiled, and Frodo allowed a small, slightly pained smile to play across his face. Frodo rose, and offered a hand to help Sam up. Sam ignored the hand, pushing himself off of the ground.

"Well, I must say I feel a bit famished now. Shall we get something to eat?" Frodo asked, the only sign of his sorrow now held in the sad beauty that never left his eyes.

"Certainly. I'll see if I can't get those cousins of yours back in here. You know, young Master Peregrin seems a bit too interested in those lassbugs crawling around on the tomatoes," Sam said as they walked down the hall towards the kitchen.

"Sam, I have enough faith in my cousin to believe that he would never eat a bug," Frodo laughed.

"Alright then, Mr. Frodo," Sam said; another lapse into a time that felt like ages ago.

"Sam," Frodo cautioned, his skin almost crawling at the title being delivered from the mouth he had kissed so many times the night previous.

"Sorry, Frodo. Frodo. Oh, that is still going to take some getting used to, make no mistake," Sam sighed as they arrived at the kitchen. Pippin was sitting at the table, eyes full of tears, Merry coming up from the ice-shed with a makeshift cold-compress.

"What happened here?" Frodo asked, inspecting his young cousin.

"He was stung by a bee," Merry said nonchalantly, handing the ice to Frodo to put on the sting. Pippin showed Frodo a large red welt on his hand.

"I was picking a flower; I wanted to give it to a lass I saw walking down by the duck pond. But when I reached down, a big angry hornet came out and stung me right on my hand, Frodo!" Pippin cried. Merry rolled his eyes.

"Calm down, Pip, it's just a bee sting."

"Peregrin, have you ever been stung by a bee before?" Frodo asked. On hearing his given name used, and so sternly, Pippin became nervous, as did Merry.

"No. Why?"

"Your father is horribly allergic to bee stings. You could be too," Frodo said, quickly dragging Pippin out of the chair and to the sink.

"What's going to happen?" Merry asked, sounding panicked, joining Frodo and Pippin at the sink.

"I don't know, it depends on the severity of his allergy," Frodo said as he scrubbed the wound.

"Ow, it hurts, Frodo!" Pippin cried, Frodo scrubbing the wound raw.

"I must try and get the venom out, Pippin," Frodo said, trying to sound patient, but his words stunk of anxiety. He soon abandoned the scrubbing, and brought Pippin's hand to his mouth. He attempted to suck out as much of the venom that he could, but such a small amount would have been delivered by such a small insect, it almost seemed pointless.

"Fro…I need…sit," Pippin gasped out, Frodo immediately leading him into the nearest bedroom. Pippin was quickly put onto the bed, where he lied down, gasping for air.

"It seems to be worse than Uncle Paladin's," Frodo murmured, leaning Pippin's head back to try and open up the airway a bit more. Pippin's eyes were opened wide, tears leaking out. His face had gone from deep red to ghostly white to a horrifyingly deep bluish purple. Merry was kneeling by the side of the bed, holding Pippin's un-stung hand. This only brought to him more clearly how harsh this reality was, as the stung hand was swollen to twice the size it had originally been. Sam was standing in the doorway, waiting for a command. When none came, he couldn't take it any longer.

"Frodo, what can I do?" he asked, stepping a little more into the room.

"I don't know Sam. I'd say get a healer, but by then…" Frodo's voice trailed off. But Sam new. There's no time to fetch a healer. Either Pippin recovers, or he dies. Merry was crying, his head on the bed next to Pippin, not able to watch as he slowly gasped for air. Pippin was absolutely horrified. No matter how hard he tried, he could not draw air into his lungs. He commanded them, breath, breath! But they wouldn't respond. His throat felt tight, it was closed. He felt lightheaded, and slowly everything around him began to fade. His eyes closed, and finally young Peregrin Took gave up his fight for air. Frodo began to lightly slap him across the face.

"No, no Pippin, do not close your eyes. Don't you dare close your eyes Pippin!" His yelling started as a command, but ended as a plea.

"Pip, don't leave me. Not yet. We haven't seen it all, Pippin. Please. Don't go," Merry cried, leaning over his cousin, his face only inches away from the tip of Pippin's nose. Usually when Merry was this close, it was due to a small hiding spot. Either hiding from the cooks as they snatched something from the Brandyhall kitchens, or hiding from some distant relative who, for some reason or other, felt they needed to be punished. But where he was usually met with a sweet smile and a warm breath smelling of milk and gingerbread, he found nothing but cold, stale, un-circulated air. Where he would typically be smiling back at a set of bright green eyes, full of vitality and wanderlust, he saw nothing but pale eyelids, not even a flutter of his long black lashes. His dearest friend, his closest cousin, his world, was gone.


	3. You're Beautiful

Sam could not bare this. He walked forward, looking down at Pippin, lying motionless on the bed, who he had so often reprimanded for doing silly, childish things. But he was still a child, Sam realized then, in the prime of his youth. Far too young to die.

"Please, Master Pippin, we need you," he whispered, walking to Merry and placing a hand on his shoulder. Frodo was silent, tears once again streaming across his pale cheeks. The three hobbits silently knelt around Pippin's bed, all resigned to the fact that they had lost him. Sam cried quietly, remembering the time he had caught Pippin raiding Bilbo's pantry. Around him were twelve jars of jam, all which before had been un-opened. He held a large wooden spoon in his hand, and a loaf of bread Sam knew for a fact had been set on the Cotton's windowsill to cool not twenty minutes before. The look on that Took's face when Sam Gamgee came in! Sam grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, and demanded that he go apologize to the Cotton's, and to Mr. Bilbo for eating so much of his jam. Pippin felt so terrible, that he tried to bake Sam some chocolate chip biscuits. That was, of course, a complete disaster, and Pippin tried to hide them from Sam. But Sam came into the kitchen after the fiasco, and was touched by the sentiment, none the less.

Merry continued to stroke Pippin's lifeless hand, remembering the same incident. He was in fact the one who had swiped the bread from the windowsill, and Pippin blackmailed him, saying he'd tell unless he gave it to him. Mrs. Cotton was known for making the best bread in the Shire, after all. Merry had no choice but to comply. But Merry may have played a part in Pippin's incrimination. He conveniently asked Sam to fetch him some tealeaves from the pantry only a few moments after the altercation. He felt so guilty about seeing Pippin feel so guilty, though, that he suggested Pippin do something nice for Sam, hence the biscuit incident.

And coincidentally, as Frodo felt this enormous loss beginning to take hold, he remembered the very same occasion. He had found Pippin in the kitchen, sitting at the table, head down, a plate full of scalded biscuits in front of him. Frodo tried to console Pippin, but he believed himself a failure, and was horribly embarrassed. Frodo knew Sam would appreciate the effort, and after leaving Pip to clean the kitchen, he sent Sam in under the pretext of checking and seeing if any dishes needed doing.

The three of them could barely contain their grief, and began sobbing. They were blubbering so loudly, they barely heard the small gasp coming from the bed. But Merry felt a warmth flowing back into the hand he was still holding, and looking up, he saw Pippin's eyes trying to open.

"Pippin!" he cried, standing then sitting on the side of the bed. Frodo and Sam's heads snapped up, looking at the supposedly dead Pippin, flailing and coughing on the bed.

"Get him some water, Sam!" Frodo demanded. Sam nodded, glad that he would finally have something constructive to do. Pippin continued to gasp, Merry wiping the sweat off of Pip's forehead with a small cloth that had been on the bedside table. Frodo was trying to still Pippin's heaving body. Sam returned, handing the glass to Merry. Frodo held Pippin down, while Merry gently poured some water down Pippin's throat. At first he sputtered, coughing even worse. But slowly he realized the less he struggled, the easier the water went down. After five minutes of slowly letting water pour down his throat, Pippin attempted to speak.

"I…"his voice was hoarse.

"Don't talk if it hurts, Pip," Merry whispered, situating Pippin's curls to behind either ear. Pippin shook his head, the young lad's stubbornness shining through, even as he had lain dead before them mere minutes ago.

"I thought I…echgem," Pippin cleared his throat, then continued. "I thought I was dead," his said quietly, the fear still in his eyes.

"So did we," Merry said, kissing his forehead.

"I'm tired, Merry. I want to rest," Pippin said, turning on his side and closing his eyes. Tears were spilling from Merry's eyes, but now they were of joy. He had his Pippin back. He crawled into the bed with his baby cousin, and kissing him once more on the forehead, he closed his eyes to join Pip in his slumber.

"I think I just might do the same, if it's all the same to you, Frodo," Sam said, standing and stretching.

"Yes, go on Sam. I'll be in in a minute." Frodo walked out of the room, and headed towards Bilbo's study once again. He slowly crept in, trying not to look at any of the shelves, should he be overcome again. He quickly grabbed the pipe, and fled as if the very maw of Melkor was behind him, waiting to chomp him up. He brought the pipe into another of the seldomly used rooms in Bag End, and found a small, beautiful sheet of purple satin, just the right size for wrapping the pipe. He wrapped the pipe up, and carried it back to his room. When he came inside, he saw Sam lying down on the bed, his eyes closed. As Frodo quietly closed the door, Sam's eyes popped open.

"What's that?" he asked groggily, now getting under the covers.

"A gift," Frodo said happily, handing it to him and sitting down on the bed.

"For me?" Sam asked. "But, Frodo it isn't your birthday," he said, confused.

"I know, it's just…for being you. Open it! Go on!" Frodo urged. Sam slowly unwrapped the small sheet of fabric, and saw the elegant pipe. He hardly knew what to say.

"Frodo, this is…amazing, I couldn't take this!"

"I demand that you do, Samwise," Frodo said. He knew Sam loved the elves, and this pipe had clearly been made by one.

"Was it Mr. Bilbo's?" he asked, turning it over and over in his hands, as if he expected it to instantly vaporize, held in what Sam viewed as unworthy hands.

"Yes. And I know he'd want you to have it."

"Thank you, Frodo. It's beautiful."

"You're beautiful Samwise," Frodo whispered, leaning forward and placing his head on Sam's shoulder. Sam put a strong arm around Frodo.

"I'm going to protect you, Frodo."

"From what, Sam?"

"Anything."

The two hobbits got underneath the covers, and delicately spooned, Frodo on the inside. Sam nuzzled his nose into the back of Frodo's head. Frodo grasped Sam's hand. Early to bed, yes, but today had been one of the most hectic either hobbit had ever seen. They both slowly fell asleep, thankful for Pippin's safety, the love that surrounded them, and the security of a lover's arms.

TBC perhaps? Review if you'd like more.


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